


the storm she brought to Haven

by SonataForMyOverdosedLover



Series: And in her arms he'd kill the Maker, each time, a little more [5]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, a story depicted in moments, how the inquisitor actually provided the horses for the Inquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:06:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3341246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonataForMyOverdosedLover/pseuds/SonataForMyOverdosedLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was reachable, palpable; forged from the most common flesh and bones, as he was. He felt betrayed by how unexceptional and opened to mistakes she suddenly was; he felt content with how approachable she appeared; he felt terrified by how cold the air seemed after she carried herself away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the storm she brought to Haven

**Author's Note:**

> A collection of moments, words, gestures, glances and touches. It might have crossed Varric's mind to get some fresh inspiration for a new novel but truth being told they made no good story. In order to write a story you need a strong beginning, a happy middle, and a memorable ending. They couldn't agree on a beginning, there was no middle way for either of them, and they would not accept an end. Theirs was a story they would rather keep to their longing fingers and their craving mouths.

He’d give anything for a wind of change. Nothing was going right at that moment and there was a limit to how much he could keep the recruits of the Inquisition motivated and in good spirits. There was no news from the party who went to investigate the events at the Redcliffe Village. They had been missing for more than a week and the fact that the herald had decided not to take Cassandra with her to meet Grand Enchanter Fiona was even more unsettling. By now, Leliana’s scouts should have sent word from the Hinterlands but there was nothing at all. If Andraste was really guiding them he simply wished for the smallest sign that could make them endure. 

Cullen made his way through the training ground catching sight of the Seeker battling her own uncertainties on the improvised targets. He saw her freeze with her sword up in the air. Something has caused her to stop in the middle of the attack. She frowned, let her weapon down and stepped away, approaching the road.   
Whatever had gotten her attention couldn't reach him through the high noises made by the constant clash of weapons and the sea of moving bodies. So he followed the woman just outside the training ground, on the dusty road. 

Then he saw it; a lone, heavy horse with no saddle or reins, walking down the snow covered path. A short neigh escaped the animal as it continued undisturbed past the blacksmith’s cottage. Cassandra stepped closer cautiously and extended her hand to stop the horse. He watched her and started to wonder how it could have passed the main gates. Had the guards let it pass? The seeker patted the rich mane and looked back at Cullen, the same question clearly readable in her eyes.   
But then he felt it; the ground vibrating under his feet followed by the thundering noise that only an army could make in their gallop. Right before he could understand what was happening an avalanche of strong, healthy Forders appeared out of the white hills that were keeping most of the road hidden to the eye. He knew that the animals were not going to stop so he acted fast, setting his body in motion. 

“Clear the ground! Everybody move out of the way! Step out of the training ground now!” 

His men retreated to safety either inside the village or on the frozen lake. Cullen reached the steps as well, watching in awe as the animals stormed down the road. He followed the line as much as the hills allowed it and all it took to put the pieces together was the wild appearance of a rider. 

He held his breath at the sight of the woman that was advancing like the wind through the horses, mercilessly gaining ground and pushing the limits of the beautiful animal that she was commanding. Her horse galloped right past him as she exhaled her orders, reaching ahead and cutting the access to the Forders any further into the woods. When they threatened to advance she pulled the horse into a powerful rear. The air was filled with the echoing neigh of the heavy animal and he knew the image of the herald – grand, strong, towering - was going to stay in the minds of all those who had witnessed it. 

The animals took a turn and obeyed her yelled commands, finally cantering in circles on their improvised training grounds. Some of the tents were undoubtedly destroyed but everyone was captivated by the graceful creatures in front of them. And Cullen couldn't blame them. Dozens of strong, battle-ready Fereldan Forders were at Haven’s gates and if there was any other reason why he would look away from that encouraging image it would be just to gaze at the woman responsible for all of this. 

He wasn't going to use modest words to describe her when the Trevelyan noble rose to her title. Her straight back made her look unbreakable; Her piercing eyes were taking in the glorious sight she had just offered them. This was her work – the Inquisition owed her this small victory – she knew it, she was well aware of it and she did not cower from showing it. 

He understood then that her current position in the Inquisition would not last. Proud spirits like her were never self-sufficient. She’d take more and more or she’d corrode their Inquisition if they couldn't keep up with her deeds. As a Templar, he was too used to the presence of a leader not to acknowledge that in her. He should feel threatened but was it really that bad to have the Herald herself display the use of power? The explosion of positive reactions was undeniable. This was what they needed... when they needed it. He caught her looking at him. Or more precisely he realized that she must have caught his eyes for quite some time and was pinning him down with interest. He couldn't help it. He smiled and only found it easier to do so when he saw a crack of confusion on her otherwise perfectly bold expression. When she nodded her head at him and returned a confident grin he found himself more amused. She would probably combust with rage if he’d tell her that she had answered his prayers. Maybe the woman had no faith in the Maker but it seemed that Andraste had faith in her. She tugged the reins of the horse gently and made it canter his way. She stopped right in front of Cullen and turned the animal so that she could look down at him. Her pleased grin made him take notice for the first time of the tauntingly positioned mole, trapped between the corner of her lower lip and the vertical scar crossing the left of her mouth. The woman crossed her forearms and leaned forward on the horse, her braided hair falling heavily past her shoulder. 

“Are these horses good enough for you, Commander?” She asked smugly, knowing exactly that the animals were past everyone’s expectations. 

“They are an invaluable acquisition for the Inquisition.” He decided not to play her game.

She straightened in the saddle and looked up the road. 

“Good! Because I took them from right under the nose of the King of Ferelden.” Her head darted back at him. “And I am planning on claiming his mages soon as well.”

He frowned and would have questioned her, but he was cut short when she suddenly extended her hand, expectantly staring at him, waiting for him to help her down from the horse.

He had no doubt that she was more than capable of dismounting on her own, especially after that display. She made little sense to him. The antics of this woman had nothing to do with her noble title. Cassandra was of royal blood herself, higher in both title and power, and yet she would feel insulted if he were to offer her help in this sort of situation. 

He could only think of a petty game. When he did not answer to her clear attempt at a quarrel she must have taken it personally and was now looking for ways to antagonize him. She enjoyed her current position, looking down at him. But he was in a good mood and her outburst of superiority left him indifferent. He was determined not to play her game and so he took her hand. What did bother him was his lack of protest. On the long run, he could recognize the horrible habit that he had developed as a Templar – he almost hated himself for taking orders without questioning them and he realized his mistake when a knowing grin adorned her face. _Templars are Chantry-trained dogs_ he heard her say once to Cassandra. She had had the audacity of wording that in the middle of the training ground, surrounded by his men. And he felt as if he was currently proving her point. 

He didn't have the time to acknowledge her victorious expression for long. The woman slipped effortlessly off the horse and he thought his aid would be purely formal. Instead the grip on his hand had been powerful, relying heavily on his body while resting her other hand on his shoulder. 

Her hair brushed his cheek. The weight of her hand on his shoulder lingered there a moment longer even after she had stepped away. The woman had been with them for a long time now; she was present in the inner circle of the Inquisition and her acts spoke loudly. And yet, only then he became aware of her physicality. She was not an ideal, she was not an instrument of Andraste; she was reachable, palpable; forged from the most common flesh and bones, as he was; as anyone here, at Haven, was. He felt guilty for not knowing her name; he felt betrayed by how unexceptional and opened to mistakes she suddenly was; he felt content with how approachable she appeared; he felt… terrified by how cold the air seemed after she carried herself away. 

“Varric, are you ok there?” 

Her voice silenced his thoughts and he looked up as the last horses were making their way to the gates. The expression on the dwarf’s face spoke volumes and Cullen knew that this was a story the writer would not end up telling. Positively livid, Varric glared in the most troubled way at the woman. 

“Don’t you dare, Trevelyan! You know I hate horses and you still pulled that stunt near Haven. Shortening my lifespan by a few years was unnecessary.”

She folded her arms and shifted her weigh on her left hip.

“It’s ok… I promise next time we’ll look for a halla so you can ride closer to the ground.”

He watched as the dwarf was uncomfortably trying to find his way off the saddle.

“You see, you’re laughing but I’m concerned that you are wicked enough to actually do that.”

She tilted her head and her voice betrayed amusement.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help? We could ask the good Commander here to lend a hand.”

Cullen had now approached the scene and stopped by her side, actually considering helping Varric, out of pity for the embarrassing situation in which he found himself. 

“You two keep your distance. We’ll see who’ll laugh more when something knocks you to the ground. The taller you are the more painful the landing is.” 

While Varric finally gathered enough courage to pass his other foot above the saddle and let his body crawl down the solid horse, Cullen secretly hoped that he would land on his feet. Yet he couldn't help not responding to the coy glance the woman shared with him. 

When Varric felt the safety of the ground under his feet he tugged his shirt with pride, his cocky attitude back in full force. The herald smiled his way and then looked up at Cassandra who was currently approaching them accompanied by a man Cullen did not recognize. 

“Ah, master Dennett! Welcome to Haven.” She turned to Cullen with the same serious expression he had seen the first evening they met. “Commander, this is the man who provided our fine horses. He has accepted to join the Inquisition at my insistence.”

He nodded and let Cassandra take care of the conversation.

“We are pleased to count you among us.”

The man let out a dry laughter. “How could I not? Your agent took my finest horses. I was not going to let them in the care of anyone with less experience.” 

“Once you settle, for any sort of resources you may need, make sure that the Commander is informed. He will provide everything that you need that is within our own capability.”

“I understand. Lady Trevelyan, may I have a word with you? I will need some immediate assistance for a quick check on the horses. It was a long journey and I want to make sure they are in good condition.”

“Of course.” With a solemn gesture she left the group and allowed the horsemaster to follow her towards their stables. 

He watched her confidently walk by the man’s side, listening to whatever he was going to demand. 

“My men have repeatedly tried to get at least a couple of horses from the man and she storms back to Haven not only with more than forty of these animals but with the horsemaster as well.”

“She may not play by our rules but she gets things done. Can we really complain about that, Commander?”

“That is not what I meant…” he exhaled… “I was merely curious. Is she really that impressive… Cassandra? Outside Haven I mean... you've mentioned…” his voice trailed off remembering the words of appreciation the Seeker had shared with them after their first visit to the Hinterlands.

“Are you still having doubts? You've asked for horses, she delivered.” Cassandra paused knowing that this was not the answer he was looking for. “I know of the incident in the village, Commander. And I understand why both you and Leliana have your doubts about the herald. But I have spent days in a row with the woman. I can't say that I fully trust her, but I fought by her side. It would be foolish to make her hostile. I've never seen a blade cutting deeper and swifter than hers. She has a difficult personality but I think we are lucky. She has been taking decisions where we failed to do so.” She glanced at him to make sure he was aware of her insinuation. “After seeing her pushing her way out there, both on the field and through our problems... her abrasive attitude becomes more bearable, if not, complementary.”

His eyes never left her figure while the Seeker shared her opinions. The woman was constantly nodding at the man and occasionally addressing both him and the blacksmith, who had joined them. Herritt grabbed the hoof of the horse near her and the animal responded violently at the sudden attempt. She was startled and rested her gloved hand on the neck of the horse, grabbing its face with the other. She must have whispered something for the animal calmed down and let the man have a look. 

She returned her attention to the horsemaster but her right hand remained on the mane of the horse, continuing to pat it. It was an absent gesture and yet the animal remained docile and obedient under her touch. 

“Maybe you're right, Seeker. Maybe we should ask her to join us during the meetings more often.”

The woman seemed to have already forgotten what they were talking about and she took a moment to react.

“I am glad you finally see my point, Commander. We cannot afford to have doubts about the Herald anymore. It would be too late for that.”

It could be. There was no denying that they were in need of a strong opinion; he was simply not convinced yet that the woman could provide the right one. At the very least, they would be able to understand her more.


End file.
